


Boop

by yeaka



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Lindir’s cold and Elrond’s the cure.





	Boop

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

They really can’t afford to miss the bus this time, not when it’s only running on the hour, so they plod out a couple minutes early despite the frigid temperature. It’s unfortunate that the bus stop can’t be seen from the lobby of their building, because Lindir really wasn’t made for snow. Elrond says it’s because he’s lithe and delicate, and Lindir supposes that’s better than it being because he’s weak. He doesn’t handle discomfort easily. Elrond comes to stand beside the metal signpost, looking just as sturdy and solid as ever, no shivers to be found.

Lindir stands beside him, puffing out little icy clouds, while the occasional car whizzes down the street. Each time it kicks up wind to stir his hair, he shudders. He keeps tugging his toque lower down his pointed ears, but it’s no use—there’s always some part of him that’s cold. His cheeks sting. It’s so bad that he actually wonders, for one brief, shameful moment, if there’s something to Dwarven beards—it must keep their chins warm in the winter.

But then, they probably boil in the summer, and Lindir would look terrible with a beard anyway. He doubts he could even grow one. He shifts, constantly plucking his boots out of the knee-deep snowfall. He refrains from any conversation, because as much as he adores Elrond’s velvet voice, he knows his teeth will chatter the second he opens his mouth. 

He makes it a few more seconds before he gives in, moving closer to Elrond, stepping that little extra way in front of him. Elrond smiles sympathetically and wraps around his back, drawing him in. Their coats are so thick that Lindir can’t even feel it. He presses his cheek against Elrond’s, knowing Elrond will look out for the bus, and the subtle contact helps tremendously. Elrond never seems to freeze over like he does. Elrond’s perpetually perfect.

Elrond would chide him for thinking things like that. But Lindir does anyway. Lindir dares to slip his mitten-covered hands beneath the folds of Elrond’s open overcoat, smoothing around the sweater in the middle to encircle Elrond’s waist. Elrond kisses his face. 

The proximity helps, and after a bit more waiting, Lindir gets a bit more bold, growing impatient and nuzzling into Elrond’s neck, just generally burrowing into him, then even sneaking his hands beneath Elrond’s sweater—he plucks off his own mitten, letting one bare palm press against Elrond’s heated skin, and it makes Elrond shiver like he does, but not from the cold. When Lindir shuts his eyes, he can focus just on that—on the warmth of Elrond’s body, the comfort of his presence, and the way Lindir _loves_ him so. 

Elrond gently nudges his face aside, turning him for a sweet kiss that begins chastely enough. It quickly devolves. Lindir’s _hungry_. And not just because they’ve put off buying groceries for too long.

It makes him wonder if it’s really worth it. Do they really _need_ to go shopping again? Must he have food? While Elrond’s tongue is in his mouth, he feels like _this_ could be enough, like they could just wander back up to their apartment and press close and devour one another.

The bus pulls up with a halting screech, and Lindir jerks back. He can feel his cheeks heating, and Elrond chuckles and pecks him on the nose. 

They climb into the bus together, holding each other’s mitten-covered hand.


End file.
